


I came in the back, no pun intended.

by LanJevinson



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Canon Divergent, Season 2, you know the drill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-29
Updated: 2016-07-29
Packaged: 2018-07-27 10:11:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7614028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LanJevinson/pseuds/LanJevinson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>2x08.  Only Ian locks the back door.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I came in the back, no pun intended.

**Author's Note:**

> This is self-indulgent, and probably OOC.
> 
> I adore season 2 Gallavich and feel like they were really on the path towards _something good,_ relationship-wise, until Frank crashed their party. So I wrote this. And I'm thinking it'll be a series. Like what would s2 have been like if Mickey hadn't sent himself to juvie?
> 
> Yikes.

"Too fucking early," Mickey moans as Ian unlocks the store.  Amber morning light streaks through the glass windows as they step into the quiet store together.

"I like watching the sun rise.  It's peaceful," Ian says casually.

"Fuck off," Mickey says back, because of course Gallagher would like something as faggy as sunrises.  "You should be working this morning instead of me.  I think I'm still high from last night."

"Got school, remember?" Ian smirks at him, like Mickey needs to be reminded that Gallagher's on his way to bigger and better things while Mickey stays right where he is.  Or worse.

Really, prison's just the inevitable next step for him.  Hopefully he won't go away for too long though.

Not like Ian'll be hanging around waiting for him or anything.

"Can't believe you gotta come here to open the store for me," Mickey grumbles, changing the subject.  He scratches at his beard.  He'd gone on a weeklong run for his dad a while ago and had let it grow out a little, then decided he kinda liked it.  He thinks Gallagher might like it, too.

"Would _you_ trust you with a store key?" Ian shoots back rhetorically, and Mickey grins reluctantly back at him.  He's got a fucking point.

They stare at each other for a beat.  Ian shifts his backpack to the other shoulder.  His shirt is tight across his pecs.

"The fuck are you looking at?" Mickey challenges, smirking, because he's pretty sure he knows what's on Gallagher's mind and he's definitely on the same page.

Ian shrugs.

"Got some extra time before class. Y'know, if you wanna."  He's trying to be nonchalant about it, and Mickey definitely doesn't find that fucking endearing or anything.

"Whatever.  But you're doing all the work.  I'm tired as fuck."

Ian rolls his eyes and tosses his backpack behind the counter, then goes to tape their _back in 5 minutes_  sign to the door as Mickey heads for the freezer, secretly elated.  It's always a good day when he gets fucked first thing in the morning.  (And maybe later in the day too, when Gallagher comes back for his afternoon shift.)

The storage table where boxes of extra drinks are usually stacked is peculiarly empty.  Ian must have finished up with the shipment earlier than usual yesterday.  Mickey runs his hands along the cool metal surface, then turns around and hops up.

Yeah, this'll be the perfect height.

"Back door was unlocked.  Who closed last night?" Ian shuts the freezer door behind him and pauses when he sees Mickey.  "What are you doing?"

"Told you you were doin' all the work, didn't I?"

Gallagher just stares, open mouthed for a long beat.

"You want me to fuck you like this?" he asks finally, voice turned on but a little unsure.

"Not if you're gonna be a fuckin' creep about it," Mickey snarks back, moving to hop back down from the table.

"No."  Gallagher stops him with a sharp reprimand and a firm hand on his chest, suddenly all business.  Mickey grins and goes for his belt, and Ian does the same.  Mickey kicks his shoes, pants and boxers off into a corner and hisses as his bare ass hits the metal.  It's always cold fucking in the freezer, but Mickey's beginning to regret his lazy decision making.

"Such a baby," Ian mutters teasingly, grin falling off his face as he stares down at their touching erections.  " _Fuck_."

Okay, now Mickey's _really_ regretting his decision.  Because he's used to not having to watch Gallagher's face as they fuck.  Or having to worry about his own stupid expression when he comes.

Everything he does with Ian lately is quickly becoming the _gayest_ thing he's ever done.  At this rate he'll be singing show tunes and highlighting his hair by the end of the year.

Ian is already reaching for the lube stashed behind some boxes just to the right of where Mickey's laid out.  It squelches into his hand and Mickey pumps his own dick a little in anticipation as he watches Ian ready himself.  He doesn't usually get to see Gallagher prep his cock like this.

Then Gallagher pushes Mickey's legs apart and steps between them like he's done this hundreds of times (he probably has) and Mickey brackets his legs around Gallagher's hips.  Mickey knows he looks like an idiot.  But it feels good.

Ian's confidence deflates a little as he raises his head to look at Mickey, and Mickey's pretty sure he's got the same expression on his own face.  He feels open, exposed, vulnerable like this.

"Some time today, asshole," Mickey snaps, because he's gotta at least _pretend_ he's got himself under control.

A little ribbing is all Gallagher needs, as usual, and he lines himself up and sinks in without preamble with a half-smirk, half-grunt.

Mickey shutters his eyes closed and bites hard at his lip to muffle his own grunt of pleasure.  This is his favorite part, aside from the finale.

The angle is different than he's used to, but it's still good, not great.  It's a lot harder to meet Gallagher thrust for thrust this way, so Mickey kind of lies there like he'd been planning to anyway.

Gallagher must be feeling like it's a little lackluster too, because he grunts "here," and tugs Mickey's right leg up so it's resting on his shoulder, and _instantly_ it's better.  Deeper.

He should probably resist.  Shove Gallagher off him.  Get out of this fucking submissive position.

But holy fuck.  Ian's thumbs are bruising the soft skin on Mickey's hips.  His eyes are trailing from Mickey's lips to his bouncing, leaking cock, to where they're connected.  He's got his tongue between his teeth as he concentrates.

Mickey looks away.  It's too much.

Ian thrusts _hard_ and Mickey's head hits the wall.

"Ow, fuck!"  Mickey rubs at the top of his head and braces his hands against the wall.

"Sorry," Ian murmurs, halting his thrusting.  "You okay?"

"Did I tell you to fucking stop?" Mickey barks.  The intimacy is starting to get to him.  He can feel it pooling in his belly, different than the tingling of an impending orgasm.

Ian huffs and starts up again, putting even more effort into it than before.  Mickey's eyes roll back in his head.  Getting Gallagher's goat is too easy, and worth it every time.

He makes a point of not looking at Gallagher anymore, until Gallagher suddenly grabs his dick and pumps aggressively.

"Fuuuck," Mickey pants, unused to Gallagher paying any attention to his dick while they're fucking.

"You like that?" Ian growls.

It's pretty innocent dirty talk, all things considered, but it's another addition to the growing list of firsts for them in the last few months alone.  Mickey likes it.

He slams his eyes closed and comes with a grunt, biting his lip so hard he tastes blood.

"Holy shit!" Ian says above him.

Mickey's eyes snap open to find Ian's awed, sex hurt orbs staring directly into his.  Then Ian's eyes close and he grimaces, moaning as he comes, body rigid.  Mickey tightens his ass muscles around him on instinct and Ian whines.

They stay like that, catching their breath, until Ian softens completely and steps back.

Gallagher blinks down at himself, then up at Mickey, who's still sprawled on his back with his legs dangling awkwardly.

"You came on my shirt!"

Mickey sits up on his elbows and laughs as he takes in the streaks of cum dripping down the front of Ian's shirt.

"Where was I fuckin' supposed to come, huh?"

Ian scowls.

"I dunno, on your _own_ shirt maybe?"

Mickey pulls a disgusted face.

"Fuck would I do that for?  Ain't gonna walk around all day with jizz on me."  Ian flips him off as Mickey laughs some more, then grimaces as he pulls the shirt carefully over his head.

Mickey stares him down blatantly, tongue darting out to wet the crease of his lips.

"You gonna be up for round two later?"

Ian rolls his eyes like that's the stupidest thing Mickey's ever suggested and doesn't bother answering.  Obviously he will.

Mickey hops down and pulls his own clothes back on, then takes Gallagher's offered balled up shirt to clean up the come that leaked onto the table.

"Check that out," he says to Ian, pointing out the perfect sweaty ass cheek outline on the metal table.

"Shit," Ian guffaws.  "You should leave it for Linda to find."

They both snort at that.  As fucking if.

"So what did you think?" Gallagher asks as they head back into the main store.

"Bout what?" Mickey stalls, knowing what he's referring to.  Gallagher inclines his head toward the freezer as he goes behind the counter to retrieve his hoodie.

"That."

Mickey shrugs.  It was a little gay.  Okay, a lot gay.  And he hates that he didn't hate it.

He'd probably do it again.

"I liked it," Ian tells him, unperturbed by Mickey's silence as he zips his hoodie all the way up and grabs his backpack.  He goes to the door and pulls off the _back in five minutes sign_ and flings it on the counter.  "I liked watching your face when you came."

"Get the fuck outta here, man," Mickey snaps, stepping aggressively towards Ian.  But Gallagher knows him well enough by now.

Ian just laughs and pushes the door open, calling out "see ya later, Mick," as he goes.

Eventually, Mickey goes through the motions of readying the store as he waits for Linda to come around and start bitching at him.

Ian looks good when he comes too.

 

 


End file.
